Yeah, so this is 6 weeks late. Sorry. But I maintain my promises and have written 6 chapters for the 6 weeks I neglected you. (Bloody writer's block). They'll be uploaded over the week, because some are yet to be typed. I love you all, enjoy :)

(This one's a little sad, sorry loves.)

"Hi – uh – Hello." John's voice was a little weak, caught in the wind that was whistling past, but there was a soft smile on his face even if a sadness lay behind his eyes.

"Bit useless, huh, I mean you can't answer me, bit - illogical. You'd never stand for this, but you've got no choice now. It's just aw-awful, terrible," practically shouting his last word through gritted teeth "that it took this, to finally get you to listen." John gestured towards the cold marble stone in front of him, engraved in harsh gold lettering, and a constant reminder of his best friend's demise.

It took some steady breaths, the methods Molly had taught him to recollect himself, and although it seemed unexpected, uncommon, he continued talking, sharing with Sherlock Holmes.

"I know I haven't visited for a while, it's been a strange couple of weeks. I told you I was living with Molly the last time I was here, that it was a little strange but comforting… you almost missed that, how strong she was. But she told me what you said to her, the night before… it. You always missed something." He allowed himself a hollow laugh.

"Well, I was a bit like that, blind to what was in front of me. And I know you don't-didn't – believe in it but I – I'm falling in love with her, and I had been for a while without realising it.

"I – ah – I asked her out, we went to Angelos, and I would never admit this to anyone else but for days before I was so scared I was just a replacement for you, because the way she looked at me reminded me of something I'd seen in her eyes before, and I just couldn't shake it off. But thankfully I was so wrong, and she told me as much. You already knew that though, didn't you? That she wasn't really ever in love with you.

"Anyway, I kissed her, or she kissed me, and it was like we fitted together perfectly. And I'm sure you'd have told me to shut up by now, but that's your own. Damn. Fault." He took pause between each word, a tear falling down his cheek over the soft wrinkles that were reforming around his mouth from laughter and smiling, and Molly.

"She's perfect and we're going out again. A second date with the beautiful woman I live with, and I thought you should know." John took another deep breath, he was well aware that he'd been talking for some time, but this eerie place was hardly made for conversation, and Molly was at work so she wouldn't be worried by his prolonged absence. He wasn't quite sure why he felt the need to tell Sherlock, but it's what best friends did, and Molly was far from the other girlfriends he'd had. Wait, is she my girlfriend now?

"I'm going to take her to the place you showed me, well, more like dragged me through, on the pursuit of that burley car thief with the information on the Keyes case. I remember thinking it was beautiful, the perfect place for a date, and you told me to never take someone there unless they were worthy of you remembering their name, unless I thought they were something far more special. I was so shocked, because you sounded sentimental, and I stood there agape for a good twenty minutes until you literally waved me off…. She's worth name remembering, she's worth that place and seven million others like it."

John's smile was soppy, like he was lost in thought of her, and he couldn't quite escape, he didn't want to escape.

"I suppose I wanted your blessing, but I don't need that at all. If anything I should be standing in front of another stone, a Hooper name across it 'Father, Husband, kind of heart, and worth a longer life.' That's what it says on his, Molls told me. I need his blessing more than anything, because she deserves better than me, even if she doesn't realise it yet." And then he sighed, that short sharp exhale. Pushing air through his nose, through a tight smile as you do when nervous, or caught in a fond memory.

"But for now, I'm falling in love with that shy woman who used to buzz around you at St Bart's, and if she thinks I'm worth her time and attention, then who am I to tell her otherwise?"

Silence enveloped John, but he felt comfortable falling into the presence of a lost friend, he didn't have to feel guilt for not being sad, so he stood and glanced over the gold engraving, wrapped up in warm memories of the late detective and smiling at the times they'd had.

It was getting late, not that John had to look at his watch for that, the setting sun was plenty enough warning that he should be getting home, even if Molly would still be at work until the early hours. He had promised Greg a pint or two, and he was well aware that it was going to be Greg's excuse to talk about the trials and tribulations of pursuing and wooing the lovely Sally Donavan. John didn't mind though, as long as he could swing the conversation back to football, or telly, or Molly.

"I'd better be off mate."

He didn't get too far, before he was turning back around, walking the few steps back to his original position and placing his hand upon the marble headstone.

"You were my best friend Sherlock Holmes, you still are." He whispered.

"It was you who helped me escape the horrors of war, with the thrill of the chase. You stopped me needing this the first time round," John held up his NHS issues, grey and uncomfortable mix of plastic and metal, walking stick, "But you caused it the second time, Molly got me through that, and even though it was all her, I want to thank you. For her. For letting me find her, and see her for what she really is. You're a good friend Sherlock Holmes, and I hope you that's something you didn't miss, but if you did, have this to remember."

John placed down the NHS atrocity, leaning it against the gravestone, Sherlock wouldn't want flowers, he'd have turned up his nose. But the overflowing sentiment behind John's stick would have to do, even if he would have found it more detestable.

To: Not so creepy guest: I'm so sorry that my idea of updating soon took me an absolute age. Thank you ever so much for the loveliness though, I hope you enjoy the bundle of chapters to come :)

To: Guest (from chapter 3?) Hello. Thank you for the constructive criticism, I get that my furniture descriptions went a bit far, but I couldn't help myself, I suppose I have such a specific idea of this little world, and Molly's flat in my head that I wanted to show you without subjecting you to my atrocious drawing skills. I'll make sure to take that on board, also thank you for the lovely comments, I'm super glad you're enjoying it!

To: Guest (from chapter 14, you maybe the same person?). You're not being 'that guy', it's a perfectly valid question. I hinted at it in the prologue (or I thought I did) but yes, Sherlock is still alive (which is not a spoiler). I'm kind of ignoring him at the moment, I'd love to visit him in his world, but it will take some time for him to see John and Molly again, he maybe a little shocked to say the least. Also you're so nice for saying the dialouges' fantastic! Because that's the main thing I'll need if script writing's the route I take, don't be afraid to constructively critique or ask questions, I'll try my best to answer and improve.

So much love to you all.